Waiting
by Iwillsingyoulullabys
Summary: So, I don't really like Ginny Weasley. This story is for my own personal satisfaction, to make me like her really. Title is pretty self-explanatory. Love you all. xx
1. On my own

'It's not fair.' Ginny Weasley thought crossly to herself. 'It's just not fair.'

The family had just got back from Kings Cross Station. There, she had waved goodbye to Percy, Fred, George, and now Ron too. Bill was in Egypt, and Charlie was in Romania. Ginny Weasley, was now on her own completely.

Molly Weasley saw her younger daughter biting onto her thumb, as she usually did when she was annoyed, and smiled kindly at her. 'We can think of lots of things to do now, can't we?' She suggested nicely. 'We can go to Diagon Alley, just us two and not have to go and spend hours looking at the Racing Brooms.'

Ginny liked looking at the Racing Brooms. But she also liked spending more time in Madame Malkins, and Flourish and Blotts too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Oh, but it was. She missed her Mum telling off her brothers. She missed the twins and their practical jokes. She missed Percy boring her to tears. And she missed Ron for just being Ron. It was nice to spend time with just her and her Mum, but there were just so many gaping holes in their day out. Nonetheless, she got six new robes out of it.

And the excitement built up when they bumped into Mrs. Smith.

Mrs. Smith and her Mum were the biggest enemies that she had ever met. What made them so awful; was that they both pretended to be delighted when they saw one another.

Sure enough, they shrieked with joy as they embraced one another, each competing to see who could outdo the other in who was more pleased to see who.

'And oh, Ginevra.' Mrs. Smith said fondly, stroking Ginny's flaming red hair. 'How lovely it is to see you again. Oh how you've grown. Oh Molly, you must be so very _proud_ of _Ginevra_'.

'I am. I am.'

'You know, I have always said to people how _lovely_ her name is. So many people are naming their children such _dreadful_ things these days, like Narcissa and that Draco of hers'.

Mrs. Smith always like to pretend that she was on first name terms with the Malfoy's, knowing full well how the Weasley's felt about them.

'It must annoy you _terribly_ when people dim down your daughter's lovely name by calling her the common version of it, _Ginny_.' Her blue eyes flicked craftily down to where Ginny had written her name on her hand when testing out new coloured quills in the shops.

'And you must _hate_ it,' Molly Weasley said sweetly, 'when people refer to your son as Zacharias, your husband regularly moans to my husband about how his name is _Zachary_ after all'.

Mrs. Smith's lips became thinner as she tried to smile. It was well known that the Smith's still regularly argued about their son's name, despite the fact that the boy was now eleven years old.

'Both our boys are off to Hogwarts, Molly dear.' Mrs. Smith said slyly. 'Was Ron alright about it? Zacharias - I mean, Zachary was delighted to go, but it is well known that some children,' she paused for deliberate effect, 'cry.'

'Oh no, there was no crying thank you.' Mrs. Weasley smiled reassuringly. 'I could tell that he was going to miss me though, when a child shows some reluctance, it only goes to show what a lovely home you provide for them and what a _wonderful_ relationship that you have with all of them. And anyway, it was quite alright when Ron got on the train. He was sitting next to _Harry Potter_.'

'H-Harry P-P-P-Potter? He, the, I, the-'

'Yes, yes, The Boy Who Lived.' Mrs. Weasley waved her hand, as if she were dismissing it. 'I helped him onto the platform, you know, he is such a polite and lovely dear. Really, he is, I am quite pleased that he and Ronald are now friends. They are so alike each other. And Harry gets on with the rest of my children too!'

Mrs. Smith was simply too flabbergasted to speak as she stared at Molly's homemade shabby housedress. How could The Boy Who Lived, associate himself with the likes of _her_. And she had no upper card on this one. Damn. 'How _are_ all of your children, Molly?' Mrs. Smith's eyes suddenly brightened, like an eagles ready to descend on its prey. 'Why, my son is in a bank too. Working in Gringotts, an Assistant Project Manager already, bless me, bless me.'

'Bill is a Project Manager.' Ginny's mum shot back quickly.

'Yes.' Her opponent's eyes sparkled. 'In Egypt is he not? Is there much Modern Gold there?'

When Mrs. Weasley had nothing to say, she continued. 'And then my son, already predicted to get all O's in his NEWT's, you know.'

'Ah yes.' Mrs. Weasley brightened up considerably. 'He's in my son's Percy's year at school, isn't he? Percy was recently made a Prefect; will he be spending some time with your son?'

Mrs. Smith's face soured. 'Charles did not get the Prefect Badge.' She then said confidently. 'I spoke to Professor Dumbledore himself you know, an old family friend - we go way back when, and he assured me that it was because he wants him to devote his time to studying, seeing as he has such _great_ potential.'

'Oh how wonderful.' Mrs. Weasley praised. 'You see? I told you that he would be able to rescue those OWL results of his. Six A's, was it not?'

Mrs. Smith scowled, her eyes then travelled again to Ginny's feet. 'New shoes?' She exclaimed. 'Oh, how divine! They are simply _gorgeous_ Ginevra dear; it must be so hard to find things that doesn't clash with her _hair_'. She added to Molly Weasley, brushing her hand through her own silky blonde hair. 'Are you doing any more shopping?' She enquired politely, pretending that she could not see the two spots of red appearing in Mrs. Weasley's cheeks.

'Yes.' Ginny's mother shot back, almost triumphantly. 'We're buying shoes for my boys. They're always growing you know. Sizes Seven to Eleven would you believe? Ron's feet are far too big for him, but he'll grown into them soon enough. What size are your son's feet?' Her eyes flashed craftily at Mrs. Smith, who gulped.

'Really, Molly.' She then gave a tinkling laugh. 'Why do you ask?'

'Old shoes that need a home.' She said in a friendly way. 'I have many, many pairs of Size Sixes that are just looking for a young boy's feet, and I know that you have a son around Ginny's age at home. And oh, I can see that you have been shopping for shoes too!' Before Mrs. Smith could protest, Mrs. Weasley was in there and pulling them all out, looking for the Size. 'Oh dear.' She said sympathetically. 'Size Fives. It's ok, dearie. They'll grow. They'll grow. Does your husband have small feet too, by any chance?'

Later, Ginny wrapped her arms around her mother.

'I love you, Mum.'

'And I love you too dear.'

'When you were talking about the feet, were you making references to their, you know.'

'Certainly not, Ginevra.' Mrs. Weasley scolded, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, told her otherwise.

Ginny's siblings had all left home it was true, but with a small smile she reminded herself that she wasn't quite alone in the world.


	2. Pretending he's beside me

'I wish he were mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord'.

'Shut up, Fred'. Ginny said crossly, huffily turning away from her older brother. 'It wasn't your business to read it'.

The twins cackled with laughter as they continued to walk alongside her.

They were currently in the stone corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wrapped warm against the frost that clung to the glass windows and the hems of their robes. Ginny was walking briskly along to Charms, her first year arms awkwardly wrapped tight around the enormous books that she was required to lug around all day. With some envy, she noticed that neither of the twins had a book on them, and something told her that they got away with it.

'Seriously Gin', George said with a deadpan expression, 'it's not very nice to say that someone's eyes look like a toad'.

'Oh go away.' She snapped. 'I wrote it in five minutes, I was pressed a time'.

She'd been writing it for three months.

Ginny had fancied herself in love with Harry Potter ever since Ron wrote home around Christmas time.

_Dear Mum,_

_Missing you too, and don't say that I don't write enough, 'cos I do. I am at the moment aren't I? Well, you know how I'm friends with Harry? Harry Potter? Well, he's a really good mate, and we were talking about how Christmas is coming up and I asked him if he was going home for Christmas, and he said fat chance, and I said why, and he said that his cousin was a pig, literally, and so I asked why and he said that __Hagrid had done some magic, only I wasn't supposed to tell you. Shit. __he had an accident with a real pig, and – what was I saying? And basically, Mum, he isn't going home for Christmas because he has a __shit__ bad family life and he's really unhappy and everything, well he didn't say that but I knew because mates know that kind of thing. Mum, what I'm trying to say is – can you please send him some presents? Not much, I know that it can be expensive, but like you can take it out of the stuff that you were going to get me. I don't mind, honest. But if you wanted to mainly take it out of Perce's stuff, then that might be better. Mum, you know that I wouldn't ask normally, but he's a great mate, and I know that you'd really like him to._

_Love Dad, and __punch__kiss hug send my love to__ say hi to Ginny for me._

_Ron_

Well, since Harry Potter had gone up in Ron's books, they'd gone up in Ginny's. And after spending a whole year of fantasising about him and having wonderful adventures with him like he'd done with Ron, like defeating You-Know-Who! Ginny got the shock of her life, when she came down in her old stained 9-year-old nightie and found him sitting at the kitchen table.

She didn't get it actually. She'd met dozens of boys before. She had six brothers after all! And they all had friends. But her heart leapt every time he looked at her.

So imagine her surprise when she woke up and he was leaning over her with a concerned expression. Immediately she burst into tears. He thought that it was to do with the trauma of being possessed. They all did. But what Ginny Weasley was crying at was the terror that he might hate her for opening the Chamber of Secrets. She could have gotten them all killed. She talked to his enemy. She let his friend be put in a critical situation. She was a terrible person. These things were later blurted out to her mum. Mrs. Weasley hugged her daughter, pleased that Ginny had finally said all of her true fears out loud.

But she hadn't said everything.

The real reason as to why Ginny Weasley was crying, was because as those beautiful green eyes looked at her, there wasn't any love in them.

_Yet._


End file.
